A dog called Fox

At 18 months old Fox had already had four homes. An average of 4.5 months per home.

She viewed me suspiciously, if she could have rolled those stunning brown eyes I think she would.

The day I went to meet her I was horrendously hungover. Ironically, I had been at the dog training club’s Christmas party the night before, it had been a raucous fancy dress affair and was definitely a bad idea when I had a a 5 hour round trip to complete the following day.

After a false start due to... nausea, Dan (the resident pup) and I set off.

Traditional UK weather ensued. Lashing rain made visibility poor. The journey was arduous to say the least and I was filled with regret at having burnt the candle at both ends.

We met Fox at a dog show. Sandwiched in a crate with a spaniel, in a van with around ten other dogs. Her foster family had overloaded both themselves and the dogs and despite their good intentions, she was very shutdown and afraid.

We walked around the show ground, Fox timid and overwhelmed by her surroundings.

Her and Dan casually sniffed then sat back to back, tails touching. Gracefully she took the treat I offered but required nothing more from me. Humans had very much failed her and I was no different.

Her history was discussed, money exchanged and a collection date arranged.

Fox arrived ‘home’ on the 24th December 2012.

For a week the black & white collie girl lived reclusively. Isolating herself in a self made den under a table clothed side table in the office. She ventured out only to toilet and to eat.

A fortnight passed; Fox would now appear at regular intervals. To check our whereabouts or take a toy back to her den.

A couple of months in and a monster had been unleashed.

As much as I hated to admit it, I began to see why she had, had multiple homes.

She barked, she growled, she bit.

She destroyed and she chewed.

She escaped, she ran, usually into trouble.

Incidents occurred with other dogs, visitors, strangers, joggers, cyclists, drivers and tractors to name a few.

If she’d have been a cat she would have used up all but one of her lives.

She was noise sensitive.

Lawn movers, vacuum cleaners and the washing machine were the devil incarnate.

There were attention seeking behaviours, fearful reactions and everything in between.

Everyday was a new drama, trauma or disaster.

I dreaded walking her, leaving her, in fact anything to do with her.

I started to despair. It felt hopeless and pointless.

Snow had settled that morning. It was a the perfect bright crisp December day.

I lost sight of Fox for a second. I blinked and she was gone.

I called, I screamed and I cried or what felt like a lifetime.

The neighbour that ran her over thought he’d hit a badger. It wasn’t until he heard me calling her that it dawned on him he had hit a dog.

She went under the side of the car and out that the back and then she ran, she ran back to me. It is incredible what adrenalin can do.

Fox returned to me limping, one leg skinned from the hock down. Hair missing along her back and head. Covered in grazes, blood and shaking from ear to tail. A gruesome and harrowing sight.

I feared she had finally used up her nine lives and in a way she did, nearly a day after she arrived we had a second chance.

She returned home, after three touch and go days at the vets and for the first time she needed me.

Fox had finally let me in and we began to bond.

I made it my mission to understand her. I took every opportunity to research techniques to help her. I went on courses, spoke with trainers and behaviourists and little by little a relationship developed.

I began to learn her ways, read her body language and she would look to me for guidance and reassurance. Fox has not been abused or neglected in the traditional sense but her needs had never been met, she had been completely misunderstood, labelled as “bad” and in reality was a really anxious little girl.

In 2015 I quit my corporate career and went to work for a dog rescue charity. The same year I completing a diploma in canine behaviour, gaining a distinction.

Foxy not only inspired me to help her but also to make a difference to hundreds of other dogs and leave behind a career that made me miserable and was unfulfilling.

We are now in our ninth year together. When Foxy looks at me, she sees into my soul. She is beautiful, she is intuitive and so, so bright.

She has a sense of humour but also a vulnerability. She is fiercely loyal but independent. Everyday she teaches me something new about herself or her species and I will be forever grateful for having her in my life.

Animal adoption is definitely one of the most rewarded things you can do. Not only can you change the life of an unwanted pet but they can also change yours!